


In sickness and in health, I marry you (maybe?)

by dancingsynapses



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pandemics, Romantic Fluff, Sick Character, Soft Rio (Good Girls), Virus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingsynapses/pseuds/dancingsynapses
Summary: Elizabeth and Rio are on a work trip when the hotel they're staying in gets locked down due to a deadly virus.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 12
Kudos: 146





	In sickness and in health, I marry you (maybe?)

**Author's Note:**

> I rushed this out, because I needed to get some of the angst of filming being cancelled out of my system. If there are any mistakes, please let me know and also, please forgive me.
> 
> I enjoyed writing this. Characters in crisis really make for great writing material.
> 
> I'm supposed to continue my other stories (Travel Buddies and Nothing like blood to even things out) but here I am writing another one shot...

“Why did I even agree to come with you.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance as she stands in front of the King sized bed in Rio’s ridiculously opulent suite. They’d been out the entire day attending a fancy event where he met some of his associates for business discussions and now, all she wanted was a hot bath and a good night’s sleep. She’d agreed to come along as his “wife” because he needed someone to help _whitewash_ his image and he’d promised a bonus (50 Gs) if she managed to get the job done. 

So here she was, her back almost breaking from standing the entire day in stilettos and her face almost melted from smiling at strangers and calling Rio _Honey._

“I thought you’d like the bed... _honey.”_ He drawls from the living room as he dials for room service. It’s only four in the afternoon, but they are both beat, so Rio decides to call it a day and head back to the hotel room. They’d checked in earlier in the morning, but left immediately after they’d left their belongings with the front desk. Now, it was too late for them to switch their room out for one with two beds.

She scoffs, then takes off her shoes and changes into some sensible pumps, turning away from the bed and marching out of the room.

“I’m going to check out the spa...and I’m charging everything to the room.” 

“Enjoy yourself, _Mrs Mendiola_.” He teases her mercilessly, before turning on the absurdly sized TV and putting on the news. Even though she hates it when he takes a jab at her, she’s secretly pleased and looking forward to the hour long massage she’s about to indulge in.

-

“Mrs Mendiola, we’re so sorry to be interrupting your session, but the management is requesting for all guests to return to their room.” She’s only thirty minutes into her deep tissue massage when her peace and muscle kneading bliss is disrupted by a staff. Groaning her displeasure, she rolls herself off the table and proceeds to put her clothes back on.

They are truly apologetic about the disrupted session and promises that once everything is back to normal, she can come back for a complimentary massage and facial. It appeases her, even though she wonders if she’ll ever come back here without Rio’s generosity.

“Where have you been?” She’s not expecting it, but Rio’s tone and tense demeanor immediately unnerve her when she enters the room. It’s a huge contrast from the playful one they’d had before she left the room.

“I...I told you...I was getting a massage…” She wants to go on about how the session was cut short but he silences her with a look and points to the television screen, increasing the volume as she watches.

The hotel they are staying in is showing. She recognizes the rustic brick facade and the unmistakable name. Then her brain is making sense of the headlines and the photo of a man she finds excruciatingly familiar. 

“Shit, I’ve been in contact with that guy. He made small talk with me while I was waiting for you to check-in.” Immediately his face greys and she clocks the unmistakable clench in his jaw that she knows is because he’s frustrated and annoyed. The next thing she knows, he’s thrown the glass in his hand and it shatters against the carpeted floor.

  
  


They don’t speak for the next ten minutes. He’s frantically pacing the room floor while making multiple calls on his phone, trying to get the both of them out of there. The hotel has been locked down on quarantine. The guy she recognizes from the TV now dead. Thirty others infected and in serious condition.

She’s still standing in the same spot, her mind racing and trying to come up with ways to get them out of this. He ends the call, letting out a loud sigh as he sits back down on the sofa, running his hands across his face in frustration.

“You should stay away from me...I mean...You didn’t really come into contact with him. You were at the counter. I was at the lounge…” She starts to talk nervously, her words blurring into one long sentence.

“Yeah? What about those drinks we shared huh? What about the kisses?” He snaps at her, losing his patience, the weight of the news overwhelming both of them. She bites her lip in guilt to stop it from wobbling and tries to will the tears away from her eyes, but it’s unsuccessful. And the next thing she knows she’s sniffling, the tears falling freely.

He turns to look at her, expression softened when he clocks her tears. Sighing, he stands and moves towards her, closing the distance.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you. I’m just...this shit’s serious y’know? The guy was alive and well this morning and now he’s dead.” He’s not sure where he’s going with this, he’s as distraught as she is, but he hates seeing her like that and he hated how he’d lost his temper even though this was clearly not her fault.

“We’ll be ok. They’ll find a way to treat this and then we’ll be out of here in no time. You got someone to take care of your kids?” She looks up at him and nods, she’s already texted Annie to let her know they’ll be driving back a little later.

He tilts his chin to the table, which she now notices is full of food. Right, he’d ordered room service earlier.

“You should get sumthin’ to eat. Don’t know when room service will be up and runnin’ again.” His voice is soft. Softer than it usually is and she’s thankful for it. 

  
  
  


-

She’s burning up. Even without any medical experience, Rio knows that the way she looks now is nothing but bad news. He places the back of his palm against her forehead anyway and immediately registers how warm she is. Plus, her breathing is coming in harsh and laboured, almost like she’s having trouble taking in air.

He dials for the front desk again. The third call in an hour, only to be met by the exact same response he was given fifteen minutes prior. Nobody is coming in and nobody is getting out. They’ve basically locked them in to die.

He has to do something.

Steeling himself, he immediately rips the covers off her, then lifts her off the bed and towards the bathroom. She stirs from the discomfort, her eyes opening slightly.

“W-w-what are you doing?” Her voice is hoarse, cracked and weak.

“You’re too hot. Gotta get you in the tub.” There’s no softness in his voice, only determination. He strips off the layers she’s wearing even though she resists. But with the fatigue in her bones and the lack of strength, she’s complicit. Too complicit actually, and it makes him worry.

He dials the knob to the coldest setting and fills up the tub. Elizabeth wraps her hands around her knees and curls up in the corner of it, her eyes still closed, her teeth chattering and body shaking from how cold she feels. He can see her body vibrate from the need to keep itself warm and he frowns. He doesn’t want to hurt her, but if her temperature continues to increase, she’ll be dead by the morning.

He leaves her for a minute, heads to the bar and dispenses a bucket of ice from the freezer, thankful he’d booked his usual suite instead of some small room. He didn’t expect to be stuck here with some demonic virus threatening to end them all, but having a tub and an ice machine didn’t hurt. Housekeeping wasn’t coming any time soon and without this, Elizabeth was a dead woman.

When he gets back to the bathroom, her eyes are open, but barely. She looks at him with the most pitiful look he’s ever seen and then tears are falling down her face.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” He coos gently as he walks towards her. She puts out a hand to stop him, but he doesn’t comply, sitting at the edge of the tub and brushing the stray strands of hair out of her face.

“I’ve got it, haven’t I? Her voice breaks as she wraps her hands around her knees again, the water rippling around her as her body shakes with the intensity of her sobs.

He rubs his hands up on down her back to soothe her and curses mentally when he realizes that her skin is still too hot.

“We’re just gonna focus on getting your temp down a’ight? You’re not gonna like this but…” He proceeds to dump the bucket of ice into the water, earning a surprised yelp from her as she jumps slightly, water droplets flying from the tub and onto his shirt.

She still doesn’t stop shaking, her breathing laboured and he notices slight wheezing now.

“You should...probably...get another room….” Speaking is an effort for her, the chattering of her teeth so loud now that he’s worried she’ll crack a few of them.

He only shrugs, then moves to sit on the floor next to her tub, leaning back against the tiled walls, the coolness of it sending a slight shiver through his body. He can only imagine how cold she must feel in the ice tub now.

“They ain’t lettin’ us go anywhere. I’m stuck wit’chu.” He offers her a smile, which she accepts, then leans back against the wall of the tub, her eyes closed. Settling himself more comfortably, he takes out his phone and scrolls through it aimlessly, briefly thinking about calling Marcus, then shoves the thought aside. They’re getting out of here. They’re getting through this.

He turns to look at her, but she’s already asleep...or unconscious. Either way, there’s nothing he can do about it except to make sure she doesn’t drown. So he sits by her side and waits. Without her awake, he takes the time to look at her. Not the stolen glances he usually does when they’re talking business. Nor the loaded exchanges they often have when it’s just the two of them.

Her lashes are long. Not as long as his, but long enough and coloured the most magical shade of reddish blonde, the same as her hair. Her nose is small and sharp, the quaintest little thing, sometimes tilted upwards in annoyance when he says something idiotic. Her mouth is pouty and even though the skin on them is slightly cracked right now, it still makes him wonder what it’d taste like if he kissed them. Then he zooms out and takes in her entire face...it’s missing something though, then he realises he misses her blue eyes - they were always the prettiest part of her face. Big and wide with curiosity and some sick sort of provocation when he’s working, then steely and cold with determination when she’s provoked. It’s like looking into a magic eight ball when he stares at them, never knowing what he’s going to find there.

He shakes himself from those thoughts, then checks his watch. She’s been in here for fifteen minutes. Good enough. Better get her out before she’s sick with hypothermia.

He tries to wake her, but she’s too out of it, opening her eyes briefly to take in his face, mumbling a few incoherent words, then they are closing again. Her temperature has fallen slightly, her skin still hot but no longer burning to the touch. So he lifts her from the tub, dries her off, then puts her in her pajamas and back into bed. He thinks about going to the sofa, keep a little distance, lessen his chances of getting sick too, but then he decides... _fuck it_. It’s too late now anway and he doesn’t want to leave her alone, so he changes into something comfortable and slides under the comforter next to her.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he wakes up, she’s trashing in the sheets and convulsing next to him. The room is dark, but he rolls her onto her side and holds her, hoping that she’s just having a nightmare and not some seizure, because he knows how to bring down a fever, but he’s not sure what to do if she starts to bleed out from her eyes.

He wraps his arms around her tightly, soothing words leaving his mouth as her body shakes violently. Rio’s not religious. Not by a long shot, but he’s praying now, the thought of her dying right here and now, in his arms, scaring him. When she doesn’t respond to his words, her body stiff and rigid and spasming next to his, he starts counting to ten then twenty, then a hundred. Listing out the different ways he’d repay whatever God that’s out there if they let her make it through this. Maybe a hundred Gs donated to whatever charity of her choice...probably something for children. Or maybe he’ll promise to not cap the next guy that fucks up a drop.

He’s almost offering to quit crime altogether when she finally stops shaking, her body relaxing slightly as he lets out a breath. It takes another few minutes before she calms down completely, then rolling herself over to face him.

“Rio..?” She sounds confused and weak. Her voice barely a whisper even through the quietness of the room.

“Yeah, Mami, it’s me.”

“You’re still here?” She sounds genuinely surprised.

“Where would I go?” He chuckles. The way this woman thinks really gets him sometimes. He’s still holding onto her, somehow it keeps him grounded.

Her breathing is still wrecked, nowhere near normal by any means and her temperature still high enough that he feels too warm with her this close.

“Am I going to die?” She looks up at him with those eyes, and he wonders if there some resignation he sees in them.

“Nah, we’ll be out of here soon yeah? You just rest.” The purples under her eyes are deep and dark. Her face too pale. He’s not sure if she can sense the uncertainty in his voice, but he’s trying his damndest to make sure he sounds like he knows what he’s saying.

“I don’t want to sleep. I’m scared that if I close my eyes, I won’t open them again.” She sighs into his chest and he can feel the tears moistening his shirt.

“That’d teach you from talking to random strangers in a hotel lobby.” He tries to keep his voice light, his tone teasing, but instead of getting a retort from her, she starts to sob again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I was such an idiot. I’m sorry we’re going to be stuck in this hotel until we’re both dead.” She chokes out and he immediately feels bad about bringing that up again.

“Elizabeth, I was just kidding yeah? I don’t blame you.” He runs his hands along her back again, the crying making it even more difficult for her to breathe and he’s worried she’d pass out. So he tries to distract her.

“My real name **is** Mendiola you know…” It seems to work because her sobbing dies down enough for her to quirk an eyebrow at him, even though she doesn’t speak.

“I have two sisters, both of them a pain in my ass...the youngest one’s Camilia, she’s a librarian. The older one, a surgeon. I’m the oldest tho.” He carries on when he realises his distraction is working. It’s uncomfortable for him to be sharing this information with her, every word causing his skin to itch and his tongue to burn, but it’s worth it if it keeps her from spiraling.

“Don’t you go around telling everyone, but I like penguins.” She lets out a small laugh at this, her eyes drifting close. 

“Keep talking. I’m not asleep. I’m just resting.” She whispers. And so he does. He tells her about why he likes penguins - because they look so smartass in their tuxedo looking way, but dumb as heck when they walk on land. And most of all, because when they’re in the water, they’re nothing but speed and grace. It reminds him of how everyone’s good at something as long as they find their own element.

He checks on her now and then, to make sure she’s still with him. It’s like he’s just as afraid that she’ll fall asleep and never wake up again. His worry reaches its peak when she gasps and wheezes like her breath can’t catch and he stops to sit her up and coaxes her to take deep, slow breaths so she can breathe again.

After that, he doubles up on his effort to keep her awake, both of them holding on to the hope that the morning will bring good news, that they won’t leave them here to die.

“I didn’t mean it you know.” It’s her turn to speak now and she does it with her eyes closed. Rio tells her to stop talking, to save her breath, but she shakes her head, determined.

“I didn’t mean to kick you out of my house and life like that. It’s just...I was forced to do it and I was desperate. I’m sorry.” He stays silent, her bringing up of that day striking a nerve in him, raw and hot.

“You meant something to me. And when you said I was just work...I was broken.” Her voice trails off, honesty lingering in the air and engulfing his every nerve.

“Thought I’d just say this...you know...in case I don’t make it.” There are no tears this time, almost as if she’d given up, her eyes half lidded, the fingers that were previously running small circles on his chest now slowing, her hands slipping from their position.

“Don’t say that. You say I mean sumthin’ to you? Well, you mean sumthin’ to me too. So don’t you dare give up, Elizabeth.” His tone was clipped, commanding.

“I’m so tired..Rio…” He can barely hear her now, can barely hear her voice and even though he can make out the sunrise from beneath the curtains, he can’t feel the hope.

“Elizabeth. Elizabeth!” He’s sitting up now, holding her with both his arms as he shakes her.

“I still got more to tell you, you hear me? Don’t you wanna know about my new apartment huh? How I flip my game? About Marcus’ Ma?” Her brows perk up at the mention of that last name and his heart does a little jump. He can do it, just needs to keep her awake for a little longer. Help will come. He knows it will. It has to.

-

Rio’s never talked so much in his life, never told someone so much. So by the time they announce that they’ve found a way to treat this unknown virus plaguing their hotel and the paramedics come and whip them both away, he’s half considering whether he should just kill her to keep all his secrets.

But then they’re administering her with the antivirals and by the time they’re reaching the hospital, she’s still hot but much better than before. She looks at him with an expression that’s so loaded and full of affection that he feels like there’s something in his heart that wants to claw its way out and stretch his mouth into a giant grin.

“So..Mrs Boland, why were you in the hotel with Mr Mendiola?” The paramedics ask her and he sees her eyes fill with that look of excitement and playfulness.

“Oh, it’s Mrs Mendiola now. My husband and I were celebrating our honeymoon.” She answers coyly in that good girl voice he’s now so familiar with and he can’t help it but grin as wide as a fucking cheshire cat. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> With the spread of the COVID-19, I hope everyone is safe and sound right now. Do wash your hands frequently and avoid visiting crowded spaces! Wear a mask if you're sick and protect yourself. Be civic-minded, always practice good hygiene!
> 
> If you liked this story, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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